Something more than fried bacon
by Dr.Kerry
Summary: A strange breakfast at Weaver's...


Title: Something more than fried bacon. (Californian dream Carter)  
  
Author: Dr.Kerry. I'm also known as Scully's revenge when I write about The X"files.  
  
Feedback: A lot! Dr.Kerry@libero.it  
  
Disclaimer: John Carter III and Kerry Weaver belong to Warner Bros.  
  
Rating: strong PG"13 for a little innuendo.  
  
Classification: Kerry/ Carter UST, H, K POV   
  
Timeline: This story takes place when Kerry and Carter are still roommates. Therefore, no spoilers!  
  
Summary: A strange breakfast at Weaver's…  
  
Archive: Everywhere, just keep my name attached.  
  
Author's note: I wrote this in memory of Leyla Harrison, who was one of the best fic writers in the web. I really wish I had known her.   
  
Then…I study English at school, so don't be angry at me if there are few mistakes, please!  
  
  
  
***Enjoy***  
  
"Damn." I swear.   
  
Carter'll come back home in a few minutes and the breakfast isn't ready yet, the house is totally untidy and so am I. That stupid alarm"clock hasn't worked this morning, and I woke up at a quarter past seven. It's very unusual to me to sleep this much, I habitually rise with the lark.   
  
I examine the bacon sizzling in the frying"pan, then look nervously at my watch. 7.38. Carter knocks off at seven thirty and it takes him about ten minutes to arrive home. He's been living here for just a few days and I don't want to give him a bad impression about my house and me. Then, I'd like him to have a good breakfast; I noticed he never eats when he spends the night at the County.   
  
I run to the bathroom and quickly brush my ruffled hair, then slip into a long shirt, the white and blue one I use to wear when I do housework. It's warm and cozy, I really like it.   
  
***  
  
I put two dishes on the white tablecloth, and then bring a spoonful of scrambled eggs to my mouth. Mmhh, it tastes good. It only needs a little salt.  
  
As I put the toasted-bread basket in the middle of the table I hear the door open and slam, and finally Carter's voice breaks up the silence.   
  
"Kerry…? Are you in?" He asks, stepping to the passage.  
  
"I'm in the kitchen!" I almost shout. I don't want him to see my bedroom; it looks like a battle field. And my underwear must be somewhere through the sheets.  
  
He enters the room sniffing at the bacon and eggs like a hound, and I can't help but chuckle.   
  
"Had a good night in the E.R, Carter?" I ask, pouring some orange juice into my glass.  
  
"I slept almost all the time. The only emergency were a car accident and a gastroenteritis."   
  
"I never have time to sleep during night shifts. You're a damned lucky boy."   
  
He grins, triumphant, then sits and reaches for the bread.   
  
"Would you like some of the strawberry jam I bought yesterday? It's pretty tasty."   
  
He nods and smiles at me.   
  
"You didn't have to do all this for me. I'd have eaten some cereals."   
  
"It doesn't bother me. I like cooking. And you like eating, don't you?" I tease, handing him the jam jar. He eats everything he can get his hands on.  
  
"You're an angel, do you know it?" He says softly, and I blush uncontrollably.   
  
"Thank you." I whisper. I've never been told so before. Not even by my parents.   
  
I'm a little confused, but I guess he was just trying to be nice.   
  
I sit down and smile back at him. I like to have someone to have breakfast with, someone moving around the house making noise…I didn't realize how lonely I was till Carter settled in my basement.  
  
He bites the fried bacon and chews, the corners of his mouth lifting in a big grin.  
  
"It's divine." He exclaims, closing his eyes as he swallows.   
  
I stare at his long neck, following his Adam's apple movements, unable to move my eyes away from him. My mouth and throat are suddenly dry; I need something to drink.   
  
My glass is on the edge of the table, and when I try to grasp it, it falls onto the floor with a loud crash. "Oh, sh…" I stand up and take some sheets of blotting paper to wipe the floor.  
  
"Hey, sit down. Leave it to me." Carter glances around the room, searching for a broom.  
  
"No, I can handle it by myself." I bend down and pick carefully the broken glass up. I can feel that Carter's gaze on me while I'm doing it. Oh God, I don't wear any trousers! I'm exposing bare legs, the large scar on my damaged leg, the small, black silk panties, and my buttocks as well.   
  
I brace myself up on my crutch, quickly drawing myself up. I throw the pieces of glass in the trash can and sit at my place with a low sigh. I'm so embarrassed. My ass will be the main subject in the ER tomorrow. Great. I consider changing my name and flee to Mexico.   
  
"Kerry…" Carter props the broom against the door and moves closer to me. I don't reply. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You've got beautiful legs." His voice is soft and gentle as a caress, and a wave of warmth flows through me, making me shudder. I don't know what to say or what to do.   
  
"If this can make you feel better, I'll show my butt to you." He says resolute, and unbuttons his pants.  
  
"Carterrrr!" I warn him. "What in the hell are you doing?"   
  
He's slowly lowering them, humming "You can leave your hat on". I laugh and cover my eyes with a hand.  
  
"Alright, that's enough. Stop that please!" I'm in such a better mood now. Since Carter is here, I'm getting used to laugh again.   
  
"Et voilà!" He throws his trousers away and I catch them before they fall. He's standing opposite me, hands on his hips. He wears white and blue spotted boxers. Yum, they're so tight I can make out the shape…oh, Kerry, what are you thinking of?   
  
He turns his back on me and hooks his thumbs under the waistband of the boxers, swaying his hips. "And three, two, one…"  
  
"Carter, stop that right now!" I'm still amused, but I manage to seem severe. This game has already been too far, it's time to end.  
  
"Well, we're on an equal footing now. How about getting dressed?" I suggest.  
  
"Later." Carter quietly moves to me, a small grin on his face.   
  
I can't understand what's going on in his mind, and I feel a little uneasy. The tension between us is so thick I could cut it with a knife.  
  
"Let's dance." He says finally. I guess he's still kidding at me, so I don't pay attention to his words, but he suddenly catches both my wrists, forcing me to stand up.  
  
"What…? John, I need my crutch to stand." I try to free myself from his grasp, but he's too strong.  
  
"I'd never let you fall." He wraps an arm around my small waist, drawing me towards him.   
  
I let out a deep sigh and lean my forearms on his shoulders. He's holding me so tight that our thighs brush together as we move back and forth in silence. He slightly touches my chin, lifting my head to place soft kisses on my temple and my closed eyelids.   
  
THE END 12.8.2001 (8.15 a.m) / 12.9.2001 (9.05 p.m) 


End file.
